Worm Halo
by reagan64
Summary: A Worm SquadronHalo crossover. The Covenant are advancing on UNSC territory, bent on destroying all human life. Then, Worm Warships encounter the UNSC and Covenant while on routine patrol. Is an HumanWorm alliance possible? Is it Mankind's only hope?
1. Introduction

Ship Master Toun' Takee stood in the control room of the Covenant cruiser Comfort and Joy. An experienced commander, Takee was a veteran of the Paris IV operation and two years earlier had killed thirty-nine human marines in less than ten minutes, receiving only minor wounds.  
The Gold Elite silently awaited orders. His armor glistening in the light. He could see two Grunts below his station, one was asleep, the other gazing out into space.  
Someone tapped on Takee's shoulder; the Ship Master turned around and activated his plasma sword to see...a Blue Elite, Mokon Neugee.  
"Why have you disturbed me fool?" Takee hissed. "What in the name of the Prophets..."  
"Excellency," Neugee started as he looked into the angry eyes of his superior. "We have a contact five light minutes out." His commander thought for a moment.  
"Put it on the main display," he ordered. "And hail."  
About sixty seconds later Takee had prepared his speech.  
"This is the Comfort and Joy; identify yourself in the name of the enlightened Prophets." He received no answer.  
"Run a scan of the enemy ship."  
A 3-D model of the strange ship appeared before the Master's eyes. It matched no known human ships. Multiple power spikes could be seen in various locations of the ship.  
"She's powering up her weapons, Excellency." A Jackal to Takee's left said. "Her weapons are using a mysterious power source, I can't find any ballistic or plasma similarities."  
"Try harder," Takee barked at the offending Jackal. If only Takee could...  
"It's firing! We're all gonna die!" The Grunts on the bridge started screaming and running around in circles, several made a dash for the nearest food nipples, two Red Elites prevented them.  
Takee looked up; several green streaks approached his ship. If I will die I will die with honor.  
"Return fire!"  
Too late, the shots made contact with the ship's hull; a second salvo reduced the Comfort and Joy's shields to less than 30%. The covenant ships plasma torpedoes were fired, the enemy ships displayed blue sparks as the rounds hit, the enemy was shielded too. Explosions ripped through the bridge, Takee's last moments were very hot.  
  
Captain Jake McWeill of the RIS (Republic of Independent States) cruiser Wendor peered out of his window on the bridge. He could see the enemy ships become engulfed by flame. He turned to a junior officer.  
"Endsign, start a scan on that ship."  
"Sir, this design is used by neither pirates nor the Dirt Brotherhood." McWeill gazed into space. An unknown enemy, he had gotten more than he bargained for when he had left Walderann five days earlier.  
"Damage report Ensign?"  
"Fire control to fore turrets offline sir."  
"And the butcher's bill?"  
"Two dead, six wounded in Sector 1."  
"Ha-hem." McWeill's orders were to patrol the outer rim planets of the known galaxy, ships of the Dirt Brotherhood, an extremist group with a hatred of Termites, had been spotted a few weeks before, hopefully they were still there. But if this new enemy was a bigger threat, the already stretched-too-thin Navy was ill-prepared to handle it. His orders were to fire on mysterious vessels without warning, his sensors could tell friend from foe. 


	2. Combat Point Echo

UNSC Destroyer Sheffield 0900 Hours 9.12.2550  
  
Captain Edward Foster awoke shortly before 9 o' clock on Tuesday. After running through a few diagnostics in his cabin, he took his post on the bridge. There he was greeted by a young woman at the ship's holotank.  
"Good morning Captain."  
"Good morning, Vu."  
"There is a message from FleetCom for you."  
Foster grimaced. "Urgent or menial?"  
"It's marked urgent sir," replied Vu.  
Foster opened the file and read the document, new orders for the Sheffield.  
  
United Nations Space Command Priority Order 05-6482A Encryption Code: Red From: UNSC/NAVCOM Planet Reach To: Captain Foster, Edward Command of destroyer Sheffield Subject: Assignment Modification Classification: RESTRICTED  
  
Sheffield is to report immediately to Combat Point Echo [1434,5732,2583] Sheffield is to investigate interrupted Covenant distress signal All non-UNSC ships are to be terminated on spot, reinforcements will be available if so desired.  
  
Foster looked up at Vu.  
  
"Vu," he said. "Take us to Combat Point Echo ASAP, power up the  
MACs. Sheffield had two Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, capable of  
hurling massive projectiles at enemy ships.  
"Yes sir. Entering slipspace in three minutes, ETA 9 days."  
Eight and a half days later the Sheffield suddenly decelerated out of  
slipspace. Alarms on the bridge started going off, red emergency  
lights filled the room. Foster turned to the officer at the closest  
station.  
"What happened Lieutenant?"  
"Sir," came the feeble reply. "Contact dead ahead.  
Foster looked through a sensor console. Straight ahead was a  
ship roughly the size and shape of a covenant frigate. He could tell  
it had weapon systems active. He turned back.  
"Adjust course zero-two-seven-five. Give me a firing solution  
for the Macs. Lock'n'Load!  
"Solution done, firing."  
Two bursts of white light filled the bridge in rapid succession.  
Foster watched the heavy rounds streak towards the target. The first  
round hit the enemy frigate in the nose, the shields flickered then  
faded, the second round hit a few meters above, a huge explosion  
obscured the enemy ship. The Sheffield's round tore through the enemy  
amidships, a chunk the size of a Longsword was gone, the entire ship  
was blackened. It then returned fire.  
The black void lit up, the Sheffield took several hits, small  
explosion rocked the bridge, two more MAC rounds hit the "Covenant"  
ship, the first was absorbed by shield, the second knocked out the  
rear. But the UNSC destroyer was taking damage too; red balls of fire  
ripped through the Sheffield's Titanium-A armor, several sections were  
totaled.  
"Sir," yelled someone on the bridge. "Both MACs offline, archers  
too!"  
"Damn!"  
Explosions on the bridge soon intensified, a computer bank to  
Foster's left exploded, sending a pair of technicians flying skyward,  
bolts of green fire lit up space, several hitting nearby. A nearby  
officer struggled to make it past the fireballs to his Captain.  
"Sir," he started sadly. "Main Reactor coolant line hit, thirty  
seconds to complete reactor meltdown."  
"Vent reactor comp-"A huge explosion ripped through the bridge,  
sending both men to the floor, the room was depressurizing, the ship  
could not take much more.  
"Twenty seconds!"  
"Abandon ship! Everyone to the life...," Foster never got to  
finish his sentence. 


	3. Worms

**RIS Cruiser _Wendor_**

**1416 Hours 21.12.2550**

            Remote sensors all over the _Wendor _surveyed the damage, the engines were gone, so was the main reactor, the ship was on auxiliary power, they had six weeks before they ran out of juice. McWeill returned to the bridge form Machinery Compartment Beta; the once pristine white bridge had taken some wear, the walls were pocked with small craters, luckily, the ship's structural integrity was still holding, and there was no depressurization, except for those trapped on rear sections.

The ship had a strange mix of sadness and joy, they had destroyed two enemy ships, yet their own had been disabled. With no engines, they were helplessly drifting through space.

The defunct ship still had intact passive sensors, little good it would do them, they had no power for their turbolaser batteries or point-defense lasers. If any more ships came they were as good as dead.

McWeill turned to a young Termite in a flight suit.

"Have you surveyed the area, Commander?"

"Yes sir," the young Termite replied. "617 Squadron has found no traces of enemy ships," he paused for a moment. "Has the holonet been fixed yet, Captain?"

"Negative," McWeill replied. "Sorry Pine, no luck."

Commander Pine gave the skipper a crisp salute, then turned and left the bridge. This left McWeill staring blankly into the vast void of space. His thoughts were soon disturbed however.

            "Sir! Contact vector three-seven-zero, fifty klicks."

            McWeill looked at the sensor panels in front of him. A large enemy warship was fast approaching.

            "Scramble fighters," McWeill barked to the surviving bridge crew. "Navigation, turn us sixty degrees to our left. Vent atmosphere in Sectors six through nine, we don't want any unnecessary fires."

**UNSC Cruiser _Normandie_**

**0416 Hours 29.12.2550**

"Power up MAC gun, give me a firing solution  to covie ship," Captain Trent ordered on the bridge of the cruiser.

"MAC gun at 40%, rising 5% every second," the WSO responded.

"You may fire when…"

Trent could hear a man's sight on his back, he turned around and saw a black man wearing a distinctive khaki hat.

"Sergeant, what are you doing here? You should be…."

"Sir with all due respect I recommend you do _not _open fire on that ship." The Captain was stunned at his forwardness.

"Explain yourself Johnson."

"Sir," the Sergeant started to say. "The enemy ship is disabled, its shields are down, and we are detecting no charging plasma weapons. Let me take my men to the ship, maybe we can capture it. Section Three would love it."

The Captain pondered this for a moment. He then turned to the WSO.

"Lieutenant, power down MAC. Open hangar bay doors. Okay Sarge, yer in."

"Yes Sir!"

Sergeant Johnson entered his Pelican dropship. He greeted the female pilot at the front.

"Let's roll Foehammer,"

"Roger that."

The giant dropship took of from the port hangar bay of the _Normandie. _

"Normandie, this is Pelican Charlie 215, we are ready for insertion."

"Roger that 215, godspeed."

"Fighters straight ahead!"

**RIS Skua Starfighter "Dirt Leader"**

**0425 Hours 29.12.2550**

            "Okay boys, let's roll!"

            "Roger that, Dirt Leader."

            "Dirt 3, standing bye."

            "Dirt 4, standing bye."

            "Dirt 5, standing bye."

            "Dirt 6, reporting for duty."

            "Dirt 7, acknowledge."

            "Dirt 8, standing bye."

            "Dirt 9, standing bye."

            "Dirt 10, rock'n'roll!"

            Commander Willarde Pine of 617 Squadron surveyed the space immediately surounding the cruiser his squadron had launched from. He saw the enemy ship, about 50% bigger than his own mothership. He noticed a large bulbous craft exiting the ship.

            "Okay people, looks like a troopship of somekind, let's move in, clear to engage."

            Pine dived his Skua at the enemy shuttle, he powered up his lasers and started firing, several shots hitting the enemy, a few of his squadronmates joined in. The ship was about to blow.

            "Enemy fighters!" screamed Dirt 3. "Four of them!"

            Pine looked and saw four delta-winged craft, they were about twice the size of his own fighter. He dove, dodged a few projectiles, then closed in. His blasters blazed across the skin of the enemy. He diverted all his shield power to frontal projection, then snapprolled his fighter a few degrees to a vector where he would intercept in thirteen seconds. A few shots hit his craft, but his shields took the damage. He fired.

            Bursts of flame sprung out of the enemy ship, he turned to see that two other enemy fighters had been destroyed, and the fourth ran. But Worm 9s voiced could be hard over the crackle of Pine's radio.

            "I'm hit bad, shields gone, losing power…" A huge explosion lit up the sky. Pine shook his head in sorrow. He then refocused his gaze on the task at hand. He fired ten more shots, vaporising the delta.

**UNSC Pelican Dropship "Charlie 215"**

**0425 Hours 29.12.2550**

"Sarge, we're taking hits! I don't know if this Pelican can take much more!"

            "Get this crate moving faster," Sergeant Johnson screamed at the top of his lungs. He saw the Covenant frigate ahead. He turned back.

            "Get tactical, Marines!"

            "Sir yes Sir!"

            The Pelican soon entered the unshielded hangar of the frigate, it was unusually decorated, it donned a light blue livery instead of the usual Covenant purple. No enemy contacts were in site. The dropship touched down and 14 marines including Sarge raced out, each covering the man in front. They all cocked their MA5B assault rifles.

            "Second squad, move it up!"

            The Marines cautiously crept forward in a delta formation. It was quiet, too quiet.

            "Contacts, lots of contacts!"

            Sarge looked up and saw two doors open, out of each came six slimy brown aliens. They all carried blasters unknown to any of the UNSC personnel.

            "Open fire!" Sarge yelled. "Give'em hell!"

            14 assault rifles started blazing, a few seconds later and the first two aliens were down, they crouched and opened fire, red streaks of light raced towards the human marines. Two men in front of Sarge fell to the floor after serious wounds. A third was killed by three bolts in the neck. Two more enemies fell like their slimy comrades.

            "Behind us!" Sarge quckly snapped his head to the rear of the formation, where the dropship had inserted them. A crystine white ship, with upside down gull-wings above the fuesalage, was hovering. It then fired two large missiles into the hangar bay.

            "Incoming!" Sarge screamed to his men. "Take cover or you'll all fry!" A huge fireball engulfed the rear of Sergeant Johnson's team, all but half a dozen men were lost in the gigantic esxplosion, most more were injured by shrapnel. Sarge could feel a sting in his leg. He looked and saw a pencil-sized piece of jagged metal in him, blood oozed from the wound. Then all went black.

**RIS Skua Starfighter "Dirt Leader"**

**0428 Hours 29.12.2550**

            "Enemy shuttle has entered the ship, repeat, enemy shuttle has entered the ship. Yer being boarded _Wendor._"

            "Roger that Dirt Leader."

            Commander Pine knew this was trouble, no RIS or Worm Republic ship had been boarded since the battle of Carditta eleven years earlier. There was nothing more he could do in this fight, unless…

            "Dirt Leader to _Wendor, _Repeat, Dirt Leader to Captain McWeill." Another voiced filled the airwaves into Pine's radio, just over the static caused by EMP interference.

            "Copy. Yes Pine?"

            "Sir, I think I've found a way to stop the enemy boarding party."

            "How so?"

            "Sir," Pine gave a deep breath. "They used a hole caused by a previous engagement to acess the hangar, no shields covering, all I need is a few shots into the hangar and they're history."

            "Permission denied," the Captain responded. "Too much chance for friendly casualtes."

            "Sir, with all due respect Fire Team Alpa can't win. They're being overwhelmed, we can still save the ship, sir."

            "Well, it's a longshot, but, permission granted."

            "Thank you sir."

            Pine concentrated all available power to his engines and targeting computer, if he aimed right, he could hit dead-on. He flew his craft and hovered a few meters from the hangar entrance. After a few calculations, he fired a single missile. It had the desired effect.

            The hangar was engulfed by flame and burning flesh, he attackers were vaporised. Only a few injured foes survived, and with no friendly casualties, the combat teams could clean up from here.

**RIS Cruiser _Wendor_**

**0430 Hours 29.12.2550**

When Staff Sergeant Johnson awoke, he was in a different room of the Covenant ship. He saw he was on some kind of medical bed, probably in an infirmary. But normally he'd be in a holding cell, something was wrong. The Covenant did not treat their prisoners this well.

"How are you feeling?" Sarge looked up and saw one of the brown, wormy creatures he had seen earlier. This one was wearing a khaki uniform, with lots of campaign ribbons and medals. He was obviously in charge. He was surrounded by medics and a few officers, probably some sort of interrogation detail.

The high creature turned to another one in a similar uniform.

"Endsign, how bad was the damage to the hangar bay?"

"Severe sir, but still usable; Commander Pine's torpedo incinerated most of the boarding party. This one," he pointed to Johnson. "Received some shrapnel in his left leg, we removed everything and we've stopped the bleeding sir."

            "Very well then." The Captain then spoke to Johnson. "Welcome to the _Wendor." _He continued. "I suppose you could explain what the hell happened here?" Sarge snarled at him.

            "I thought you bastards knew what happened, what you did to us, at Harvest, Draco III, Jericho VII. I've spent my entire life fighting your "Covenant." You know well what you've done for your "Prophets."

            "Harvest, Jericho? What the hell are you talking about, son?" What have we done to you…"

            "Humans."

            "Humans? Well, I don't who this "Covenant" is or who the hell they are. Now then. We've been attacked by two ships in the last ten days before yours. The first, was purple, talked about…" He paused. "These prophets."

            Sergeant Johnson was now confused. The alien went on.

            "They fired at us with some sort of energy weapon, somewhat like the plasma in a ship's reactors. Then a gray ship, fired large projectiles at us, knocked out the rear of our cruiser.

            "The purple were Covenant, your ships."

            "I don't know what you are talking about." We are not "Covenant." I am Captain Jake McWeill of the Republic of Independent States Cruiser _Wendor. _And you are…"

            "Captain!" A cry came from far away. "They're firing!"

            "Estimated time to impact."

            "Fourteen seconds, sir."

            "Damn! BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

            The entire ship shook as the massive shell hit amidships. The lights flickered and died. Everything was quiet.

            "Damage report," the strange Captain said calmly.

            "Sir, auxiliary power offline."

            "How much juice do we have?"

            "If I keep lights off we have ten minutes before life support fails."

            "How long with short-range transmitter?"

            "Eight."

            Captain McWeill pulled out his sidearm and pointed it at Sergeant Johnson's head.

            "Okay, radio your superiors, and tell them to start shooting at us. We are Worms, not Covenant."

**UNSC Cruiser _Normandire_**

**_0455 Hours 29.12.2550_**

****

"Sir, no contact with Fire Team Echo, Sergeant Johnson's CNI transponder is still transmitting, all vital signs normal."

            "Load another MAC round Endsign," Captain Trent ordered. "Let's finish off those slimy bastards."

            "Yes sir, MAC gun at 30%, ready to fire in three minutes."

            "Good, fire at will."

            A new voice was soon heard, barely audible over the static.

            "Sir…Staff Sergeant…Johnson…(inaudible) duty."

            "Johnson! What the hell happened there?"

            "Squad…causalties…they're not Covenant…Worms…Termites…life (inaudible) failing. Reguest EVAC…ASAP…Johnson…"

            "Johnson! Damn it, Foehammer, ingress to LZ. Exract our guys."

            The Captain spoke over the PA.

            "All personnel, this is the Captain speaking. Contact is not, I repeat, is not Covenant." He turned to First Officer Meyer. "I'm going in with the rest of our marines."

**RIS Cruiser _Wendor_** __

**0436 Hours 29.12.2550**

Foehammer landed the dropship in the unknown ship, sorrounded by the charred reamains of Sergeant Johnson's squad. It was pitch black. The Marines all turned on their flashlights. They were aghast at what they saw.

            "Holy shit…FRED!"

            "Hold yerself together Marine."

            They proceeded toward an open door, by the door were five bodies, they resembled giant Worms, there was also what appeared to be a giant termite. Beyond the door was a hallway roughly two meters high. It contained a similar blue livery. They then saw a second door.

            "Parkins, Mendoza, flank the door." The soldiers acknowlegdged and flanked the door. They then opened them. Standing right in front of them was Sergeant Johnson.

            "Sir!" Johnson snapped to attention. He saw his commander noticing his wounds. "The Worms fixed me up, sir."

            "Johnson," Trent replied. "Who's thi…"

            "Captain Jake McWeill of the Republic of Independent States Cruiser _Wendor." _One of the Worms replied as he aproached the human captain.

            "Captain Henry Trent, United Nations Space Command." The Worm nodded.

            "Well Captain, if it is not to much trouble I formally request transport for my men onto your sip, we come in peace. As it is we have a liitle over two minutes before we run out of air.

            "Of course, we'll moblilize a few dropships."

            "Do you have room for a few starfighters and an Assault Shuttle?"

            "A wha…"

            "You seem to call them "dropships."

            "Of course.

            A few minutes later, Captain Trent, Captain McWeill, Commander Pine, and the rest of the _Wendor's _surviving crew, were onboard the UNSC Marathon-Class cruiser _Normandie. _

**UNSC FleetComm , Planet Reach**

**0940 Hours 30.12.2550**

Admiral Preston Cole, hero of Harvest, and 55-year veteran of the service, strolled down the corridors of ONI's Castle Base on Reach. His aging features and spotty gray hair did nothing to diminish his high stature. After passing through no less than 10 security checkoints, he arrived at ONI Director "O's" office. O was waiting for him there.

            "Ah, Admiral Cole, please sit down." Cole promply sat down on the chair offered.        "This better be important O, the Covenant glassed New Maine a few hours ago; you probably already know this, right?"

            "I do Admiral, now then," he paused. "He received an er-disturbing report from a ship under your command. Cole raised an eyelid in interest.

            "It," the Director continued. "Reports contact with an alien race previously unknown to us. We believe it was one of their ships which had destroyed the _Sheffield__. _

Admiral Cole remembered the _Sheffield_; it had dissapeared several days earlier without a trace, of course no one outside FleetComm and ONI knew about it, Section Two made sure of that. It's dissapearance had puzzled the UNSC. It had been very embarrasing for Cole and his staff.

            "And this new race," Cole inquired. "What are they like, where do they live? Are they friendly?" Cole could think of a thousand questions to ask.

            "Well, it's hard to put this…they're Worms."

            Cole blinked. "What?"

            "They're Worms Admiral, and Termites, apparently its some kind of alliance. They call themselves the "Republic of Independent States."

            "They are highly advanced; their ship had singlehandidly destroyed a Covenant cruiser, and the _Sheffield_. The _Sheffield_did put a few MAC rounds into their ship. The _Normadie _boarded with no success, but the Worms hailed us, and the _Normandie _has their ship in tow. They should be here in about a month, towing slows everything down in slipspace apparently.

            "Oh my god," Cole muttered under his breath. "This changes everything." He raised his voice to it's normal level and turned to the director. "Thank you O, I should be getting back to FleetComm, Admiral Hood needs to hear about this. And the Assembly."

            The ONI Director waved his hand. "Of course, just keep it in government channels. Nice talking with you, Admiral."


	4. Admiral

**RIS****Admiralty****Building****, _Walderann_**

**1730 Hours 5.1.2551**

Commodore Dirt Wantillese was silent as he rode the elevator to the fith floor of the Admiralty Building. He wondered why he had been called from the Academy on Carditta to come here, all he knew was that it was highly classified.

            "You floor, sir," said the elevator operator at Dirt's side.

            "Thank you," Dirt replied.

            After walking a few corridors and going through a six meter thick blast door, Dirt entered a room, sitting was Chief of Naval Operations Fleet Admiral Wick Perry, 3rd Fleet Commander Vice Admiral Woratio Wormblower, and President Weia Worgana.

            "Sirs, Ma'am."

            "Thank you for coming Commodore," Weia replied diplomaticaly. She then turned over the floor to Fleet Admiral Perry.

            "Thank you for coming Commodore Wantillese. He turned off the lights and a holographic display came up. On it was a picture of a strange purple spaceship Dirt had never seen before.

            "On of our cruisers, the _Wendor_, encountered this object while on patrol in the Outer Rim. After broadcasting a crypric greeting, Captain McWeill of the _Wendor _opened fire in compliance with his orders." The picture started moving; beams of green turbolaser fire came form the _Wendor_, hitting the enemy ship, the ship glowed as appareny enemy shields took the hits. Four streaks of blue light then came, hitting the _Wendor _with no apparent damage. The _Wendor _fired another salvo, and the enemy ship exploded in a giant fireball. Next another ship appeared, this one was smaller than the first, and black-gray, bulky instead of the graceful first contact.

            "This ship," Perry continued. "Attacked without warning." The screen came to life as two balls of white thunder came streaking from the new ship, the first projectile hit the nose of the _Wendor _with no apparent damage, the shields held. The second projectile grazed the top of the cruiser, finishing off the weakened shields, and leaving a small hole in the top of the _Wendor. _

"That ship, is obvoiously of different origins, the builders of this ship, are called "Humans."

            The hologram began playing again, the _Wendor _returned fire on the human ship, green streaks of turbolaser fire sliced through the ship, explosions covered the surface, it quickly exploded, but not before two more huge projectiles slammed into the rear of the _Wendor. _The screen went black.

            The lighting soon came back on in the briefing room. Perry continued talking.

            "The _Wendor _was crippled, another human ship arrived and boarded, the attackers were repulsed, and th _Wendor _is in-tow; that's where you come in Wantillese.

            Dirt looked dumbfounded. "I'm a pilot, not a diplomat."

            "No Dirt," Wormblower piped in. "We're giving you a command."

            "What? I'm the Supereindendent of a flight school, not a ship commander."

            "Your orders are to lead a squadron of warships to extract the _Wendor _crew, as well as assist the "Humans" in anyway you can, also, you are to prevent our first encounter, apparently an enemy of the humans, from finding our galaxy, by any means necessary, take the fight to them."

            "Sir-"

            "You are hereby promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral. You will leave in three days, that's an _order._ Dismissed."


	5. Borrowed Time

**UNSC Heavy Carrier **_**Saratoga**_**__**

**1204 Hours 5.1.2551**

Saratoga was a magnificent ship, it sported two MAC guns, over five hundred launch tubes for Archer anti-ship missiles, and could carry fifty-five Longsword fighters, and ten Pelican dropships. She also carried two thousand marines, four Scorpion tanks, and twenty Warthogs. It's fifteen meters of prime Titanium-A armor made it virtually indestructable. It was the flagship of the largest fleet assembled since Admiral Cole's victory over Harvest; it consisted of ten frigates, eight destroyers, five Marathon-class Cruisers, and the _Saratoga_herself.

Admiral William "Bill" Halsey, a descendant of the legendary WWII admiral "Bull" Halsey, stood on the bridge. He tapped into a all-ships COM and began to speak.

"Ladies and gentleman, in a few hours, you will take part in the greatest battle since Trafalgar, as part of the largest fleet since Harvest; combined, we have thirty-two MAC guns, and almost six thousand Archer missile pods. We have more firepower than Nelson at the Nile, Nimitz at Midway, and Eishenhower at Normandy, _combined. _We _cannot _fail, and we _must not _fail. That is all. Halsey out."

Halsey turned to Captain Lightoller, "Power up MAC guns, send all firing times, the Covenant should be here soon."

A few anxious minutes passed, ONI had determined that the Covenant were going to attack the _New Ireland _sector after stopping to regroup at Halsey's position. If the plan worked, the Covenant would lose an entire armada.

"Sir, Covenant ships inbound, vector five-two-seven-alpha! Twelve hundred kilometers."

"Launch fighters, seal off the bridge, battlestations!" Halsey barked.

Several dozen Covenant ships could be seen distantly. Three Covenant carriers, five cruisers, and at least twenty frigates and destroyers. The fleet was bigger than expected. This was going to be rough.

Halsey's plan was simple, the larger ships with multiple MAC guns would fire first, using their firepower to tear down the enemy's shields, the frigates would then join in for a knockout blow, this left no room for error.

"Fire!"

Twenty-two balls of white fire erupted from the fleet's guns, sending six hundred ton projectile flying at nearly half the speed of light. They struck the Covenant ships with amazing force, several rounds hit the nearest carrier, knocking out its shields, several cruisers and destroyers were helpless. Ten more rounds hit the unprotected hulls. The carrier was gutted form hall to stern, as several frigates and destroyers exploded violently. The UNSC fleet then launched a flood of Archer missiles, several more frigates and a cruiser blew up, other ships had half-depleted shields. The first barrage had knocked out almost a third of the enemy fleet.

Red glows could be seen from the Covenant plasma turrets, as hundreds of Seraph fighters emerged from the surviving carriers'.

"Admiral," an officer at the _Saratoga__'s _nav station said. "Covenant plasma torpedoes to hit in fifteen seconds."

"All ships hold position," Halsey replied. "Brace for impact, and fire on schedule."

"Aye sir."

Four bolts of plasma struck the _Saratoga__, _as others hit the rest of the fleet, two frigates and a destroyer exploded.

"Damage report," Lightoller asked,

"Decks A and C breached at four points, depressurisation in Sector A8."

"Get everybody out of those sectors, depressurise all unnecessary sectors and vent to space."

"Aye Aye sir.!"

Twenty MAC guns fired at the surviving Covenant ships. Both the surviving carriers and a CCS-class cruiser were knocked shieldless; two frigates were destoryed. Eight more MACs fired and both the carriers, two destroyers, and a cruiser exploded.

The surviving Covies opended fire, two torpedos struck, vaporising sections of Titanium-A, the bridge shook with each impact. The remaining UNSC crusiers and a frigate were knocked out as more plama hit the _Saratoga_amidships.

"Damage report!"

"Admiral Halsey, Captain Lightoller!" A paniced crewman yelled. "Number two MAC gun offline! Repeat, number two MAC gun offline!"

"All ships fire Archers!"

Another barrage of Archers and MAC rounds struck the enemy fleet, only half a dozen frigates and destroyers remained. The _Saratoga__'s _rear exploded.

Officers and enlisted men on the bridge screamed as fireballs engulfed them, Halsey and Lightholler were thrown to the ground. Lightholler received a concussion and a few broken ribs, Halsey wasn't so lucky.

Lightholler struggled to his feet and surveyed what was left of his fleet. It was just the _Saratoga_and a pair of bady damaged destroyers, the _Blücher _and the _Iroquis, _under Commander Keyes.

"All ships, prepared to retreat."

**FleetComm, Planet Reach**

**1839 Hours 7.1.2551**

"So Admiral Halsey is dead?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

Fleet Admiral Sir Terence Hood stared out the window of his office on Reach. An entire fleet had been destroyed, the problem was, so was theirs. Now, Halsey was dead. But _New Ireland_had been saved.

"No,"Hood thought. "They'll be back, next time we won't be able to stop them. Borrowed time, that's it, borrowed time.


	6. What the Hell Have We gotten ourselves i...

**Wackbar Shipyards, _Walderann_**

**0613 Hours 8.1.2551**

Rear Admiral Dirt Wantillese sat in the passenger section of his VIP-transport admiring the extensive shipyard facilites of _Walderann. _Two new Worm Frigates were under construction in the massive Wackbar Shipyards, while a flight of Avengers patroled the perimeter. A few kilometers from the shipyards were a pair of Wian III battlestations guarding the entrance to the spaceport. The admiral's destination, his new flagship the _Curacao__._

The shuttle finally entered the hangar, as Dirt took one last look at his taskforce. A sentry led him down a short corridor to the bridge. Standing on the bridge, in front of a row of computer screens, was the _Curacoa's _Captain, Jacob Custard.

"Good morning Captain," Dirt began to say.

"Good morning Sir."

Custard then proceeded to show the new Admiral his command.

"The taskforce consists of three cruisers and five frigates. The cruisers are this one, the _Keating, _and the _Victory. _Then there are the frigates, the _Winchester__, _the _Invincible, _the _Furious, _the _Wantillese, _and the _Windowmaker. _Dirt grunted at the name of his namesake the _Wantillese, _he had never approved of naming warships after living persons. The Admiralty had paid little heed to his wishes. He turned his thoughts back to the mission.

"Mr. Custard," said Dirt as he handed his flagcaptain a datapad, "Here are the coordinates of our destination, planet Reach. I want us off in twenty minutes.

"Sir," Custard replied. "You do understand these coordinates are extrapolating on our navcomputer's internal maps. We won't be able to factor in debris and stars."

"I understand very well Captain!" Dirt snapped. "Get us there."

"Yes, sir." He turned to a microphone. "All ships, set coordinates to Waypoint Alpha, feeding coordinates now." All the ships acknowledged, and sixteen minutes later the fleet was off.

**FleetComm, Planet Reach**

**1202 Hours 15.1.2551**

The UNSC Security council was meeting. Fleet Admiral Sir Terence Hood, Admiral Preston Cole, and deputy Chief of Naval Operations Vice Admiral Danforth Whitecomb sat around a mahogany table in a FleetComm grotto six miles under the surface of Reach.

"Cole," spoke Whitecomb, "The wisdom of sending Admiral Halsey's fleet into battle away from the planet he was protecting has been brought into question by several of my colleagues."

"Now Danforth," Hood started. "I'm sure the Admiral has an explanation more than adeguate for ONI's spooks."

"Admirals," Cole replied. "If I had let the Covenant arrive at _New Ireland__, _there was a risk they would arrive before Halsey, the planet would have been glassed before UNSC forces could respond. The rendevous point interception shaved off five days from our response time. It was just unfourtanate that our intelligence had incorrectly reported the size of the enemy fleet."

"So you're saying," Whitecomb raised his voice. "It's ONI's fault we lost and Halsey is dead. You're saying…"

Hood raised his hand to stop him. "That's enough, Admiral." Hood pushed a button in his chair and an AI dressed in white appeared over the table.

"Reggina, please erase all records of this conversation."

"Yes Admiral," a soft female voice replied.

"Good, now…"

"You have a message."

Hood looked up at his personal AI. "A message?" he asked.

"Yes, would you like me to play it?"

"Put on holochannel three."

Reggina nodded and a hologram appeared, there stood a gray alien about a meter and a half tall. A Worm.

"Admiral Hood," the Worm said. "This is Chief of Naval Operations Fleet Admiral Wick Perry of the Republic of Independent States navy. I would like to discuss recent events with you."

"Er, of course." Hood turned to Cole and Whitecomb. "Would you excuse us, gentlemen?" Once they had left the room Hood turned back to the Worm.

"What would you like to know?"

"Why you attacked one of our ships," Perry said coldly.

"Your cruiser, the _Wendor_?"

"Yes."

"Good, your ship was roughly the size and shape of a Covenant frigate, I suppose you know who they are by now."

"A collection of races waging Jhad on your people." Hood nodded.

"I apologise for the incon-"

"Eighty three crewers and soldiers are DEAD. And a cruiser is out of commission. You'd better be sorry."

"Anything else you would like to say to me?" Hood growled.

"I've dispatched a small taskforce under one Rear Admiral Dirt Wantillese to your headqurters to pick up the _Wendor's _crew. They should arrive any day now." Hood blinked twice before responding.

"The _Normandie, _one of our ships towing yours, won't arrive for at least two and a half weeks."

"How slow are your pathetic ships?" Perry asked tensely.

"It takes time," Hood replied defensively.

"Well it takes _too much _time. Walderann out."

The figure dissapeared, leaving Hood alone in the briefing room.

_What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?_


	7. The Worms Are Coming!

**RIS Cruiser _Curacao, _in orbit **

**over**** planet Reach**

**1545 Hours 20.1.2551**

Reach was a very busy planet. Over a hundred UNSC ships were there at any given time. Reach was also a massive shipyard, cruisers, destroyers, prowlers, were all built here. 20 Orbital "Super" MAC Guns augmented the already vaunted defences.

Admiral Wantillese saw all of this from the _Curacao_. The RIS task force took up orbit, as an Assault Shuttle transported Dirt to the surface.

After being cleared for landing, the shuttle dropped off the admiral at a landing bay. Two MPs armed with MA2Bs escorted him to the conference room six miles underground.

Two men in navy uniforms greeted him there. One had gray here and was obviously in his late 60s or early 70s. The other was slightly younger.

"Admiral," the younger man spoke. "Welcome to Reach."

"Thank you Admiral-"

"Whitecomb, Vice Admiral Danforth Whitecomb," he then pointed to the other man. "And this is my colleauge, Admiral Preston Cole. Please sit down."

"Thank you," Dirt replied as he took the nearest empty seat.

"Now then," Whitecomb said calmly, "Captain McWeill and his crew should be arriving in about a week. Until then you are welcome here."

"Thank you Admiral," Dirt replied. He cleared his throat. "My orders are to extract the _Wendor _crew, as well as do anything in my power to prevent this "Covenant" from finding _our _galaxy." Whitecomb and Cole both nodded understandingly.

Cole began to speak. "Admiral Wantillese, the Covenant _must _be stopped before they destroy the entire human race, and go after you."

"I understand-"

"We _would _appreciate a few more fighting ships on our payroll if you catch my drift." Whitecomb nodded in agreement.

"Huh?"

We would like your taskforce to assist us in a few, ops. Once you have picked up your colleagues."

"Well," Dirt replied, shifting uncomfartably. "That is part of my order-"

"You," Whitecomb explained. "Will be attached to Admiral Cole's fleet, you will take your orders from him, with your CNO's permission of course."

"I'm sure he would approve, but-" Whitecomb stopped him.

"Then, it's agreed."

**Covenant Heavy Carrier _Just Crusader_**

**0218 Hours 21.1.2551**

It was the graveyard shift on the _Just Crusader. _Major Hilto Hakamee had watch. He sweated uncontrollably under his scarlet armor. Reports had arrived of new infidels, one of their ships destroying a cruiser effortlessy, Hakamee did not wish to fight them, it would be an honorable death to die in battle, but retreat was a tactic in itself. If only Ship Master Zaren Zarkkono would understand.

Hakamee glanced at one of the screens in front of him at the control room, seven cycles past the mid-night. His shift would be over in two cycles, that was when the Ship Master would arise from his slumber. Nothing in the universe could stop that.

The peaceful night would soon be disturbed, warning sirens pierced thtough the air, over the screams of terrified Grunts and Jackals. Lieutenant Kantamee did his best to calm them.

"Dargop!" Hakamee growled at the nearby Grunt. "What is it?" he hissed.

"E-ecellency," the startled Grunt stammered. "Enemy cruisers." Hakamee looked up. Two ships approcached at flank speed. One of them was the ship of the new infidels. In front was a "Human"ship, they must have aligned themselves. The Prophets would need to know this.

Ship Master Zarkkono came thundering though the doors, he arrived at his station quickly.

"What happended?" He hissed.

"Excellency," Hakamee replied as calmly as he could. "Infidels." The Gold Elite growled at the name. "Power up the weapons. Fire at will. Let the infidels feel pain."

The crew watched as the two enemy ships approached at flank speed. They were on a collision course with the _Just Crusader_. Bolts of plasma sliced through the Worm ship, which was deemed a larger threat, it broke into three chunks, two of which continued towards the carrier.

The third chunk asjusted course with the human ship, but then continued towards the _Just Crusader. _The debris filled all the screens on the raised control platform.

"Excellency," Hakamee yelled at his Ship Master. "Lieutenant Kantamee has stolen a dropship!"

"That traitor…"

The first piece of Worm ship sliced through the _Just Crusader _aft of the control room, the second and third hit the shield a few seconds later, the shield flickered, then vanished; the _Just Crusader _exploded violently once it had been sliced into thirds and quarters. The _Normandie _continued on its way.

**FLEETCOMM, UNSC HQ, Planet Reach**

**1817 Hours 8.2.2551**

Rear Admiral Dirt Wantillese was eating a bowl of soil in a mess hall under the United Nations Space Command admiralty building. Reach was nasty stuff; Dirt would prefer Waboo soil anytime. It was seventeen minutes after the hours when the sliding doors of the mess hall opened. Walking in was Admiral of the Fleet Sir Terence Hood, and two Worms, Dirt recognized both of them.

"Jake?"

"Commodore Wantillese!" Dirt cleared his throat.

"Actually its Admiral Wantillese now, I was promoted a few weeks ago."

"My apologies," McWeill replied. "Sir," he turned to the Worm next to him, "Have you met Commander Willard Pine, he is commander of 617 Squadron, formerly stationed on the _Wendor._

"I have already made the Admiral's acquaintance," Pine said to the Captain.

"Ah, of course," McWeill said. Dirt turned and spoke to the Termite.

"So," he said. "Commander of the 617th?"

"All thanks to you sir." Pine turned to a confused McWeill. "The Admiral signed my transfer request, two years ago I think."

"So, Commander, you and your boys ready for some payback?"


	8. The Worm Expeditionary Force

**RIS Cruiser **_**Curacao**_**__**

**Flagship _Worm Expeditionary Force, _over ****Raleigh**** V**

**22.1.2551**

****_I leave home for a few days, get involved in a foreign war, and now here I am in the middle of nowhere running errands for a guy I've never heard of…_

Dirt quickly snapped out of it. It wasn't the time to dwell on the past, especially not since the secret of his arrival was no longer so secret. He turned back to his communique.

United Nations Space Command Priority Order 8-216B

From: UNSC FleetComm, planet Reach

To: Rear Admiral Wantillese, Dirt. RIS Navy

Encryption Code: Red

Subject: Transit Instructions, Worm Expeditionary Force

1. UNSC believes attack on _New Raleigh _system imminent.

2. WEF is to travel into system, examine defenses, and report back to FleetComm via secure channels.

3. If attack occurs during inspection, WEF is to coordinate resistance.

4. Do NOT under any circumstances retreat, or return without transmitting relevent data.

"Sir." Dirt looked up and found Captain Custard.

"Yes Captain?" he asked.

"We are entering the _New Raleigh _system, dropping out of hyperspace in three minutes."

"Thank you."

Dirt walked up to a window on the bridge of the _Curacao__, _he could see nothing. After a few minutes, six green and blue orbs appeared. One of them was their destination, Raleigh V.

The _Curacao_entered orbit of the fifth planet from the system's star, Raleigh Solari. Four grey ships approached Dirt's taskforce cautisously.

"Sir," the communications officer of the _Curacao_said to Dirt's left. "We're being hailed."

"Patch it into my command station, Lieutenant."

"Aye sir, patching now."

"Admiral Wantillese sir." An image of a man in his early to mid thirties, with tar black hair and discontent in his eyes appeared. "Captain Ronald Avery, destroyer _San Jacinto__. _I was sent here to defend _New __Raleigh__."_

"Thank you Captain," Dirt growled. At least it was nice to have a human call him "sir" once in a while. But anyway, duty called.

Dirt turned to Captain Lightoller. "I'm going planetside, ready my shuttle."

"Yes sir," came the reply.

An Assault Shuttle carrying Dirt, Chief Petty Officer Micheal Casey, Cryptogrophy and Communications Specialist, and two dozen Worm Troopers brandishing their Energy Assault Rifles, an energy weapon containing enough energy for one hundred shots between recharge. The shuttl burst through the clouds, revealing a fertile landscape, spotted by farms and villages. After a few minutes of atmospheric flying, they settled down in a small clearing, a few dozen UNSC Marines greeted them.

"Welcome to Raleigh V," a particularly gruff one said. "CP's this way, follow me!" He ran off.

"Quite friendly aren't they?" Casey remarked.

The Worms followed, after a few hundred meters they came upon the Marine command post, not much more than a few tents and a field transmitter. A few men gathered around a small stove.

"Colonel Thomas Mallard, UNSC Marine Corps."

"Rear Admiral Dirt Wantillese."

"Ah, Admiral, we've been expecting you." Dirt lifted an eyebrow in interest.

"We have our ways, _sir."_

Another marine walked up to the Colonel and whispered into his ear. The Colonel quietly thanked him, then turned back to Dirt.

"Covenant, five of their Cruisers. They're coming to glass the planet."

"Glass?"

"First they destroy all our ships in orbit, then they fire their plasma at the surface, they boil the surface away, they literally melt the planet."

Casey and a few Worm Troopers grimaced at the thought. "Don't worry," Dirt assured them. "My boys are up there." It was a few seconds later that sound began coming from the field transmitter.

_Admiral [static] are__ you there? We've [static] been engaged! Request permission to break and fire [static]._

"Permission granted, we can't let those bastards glass the planet." A new voice soon broke in.

_Admiral, Covenant dropships inbound to the planet, repeat, Covenant are landing!_

"Commander Pine?"

_Don't worry, my flyboys will take'em out fast. _

"What if they land?"

_They won't._


	9. The Battle of New Raleigh

**617 Squadron, over ****Raleigh**** V**

**1315 Hours 10.2.2551**

"Okay, throttle up, we've got company."

"Roger that."

"Copy."

Pine made a 180° turn in his fighter, his boys could handle a few dropships, he needed to keep those fighters away from the UNSC ships, they didn't have shields, very vulnerable.

After surveying the area, Pine dove to intercept a pair of Covenant Seraph fighters making a run on the frigate _Lafayette__. _He focused his sights on their tops, then fired ten shots, knocking away their shields, then ended the fight with six more before his prey could escape. A couple more went down before Pine realized a couple dropships were going to make it through, despite his squadronmate's best efforts. He had to warn the folks on the ground. After selecting a secure frequency, Pine keyed a COM link and began speaking.

"Two dropships inbound, ETA three minutes, look out. Over." The message was short but to the point. He needed to fight, not talk.

Pine turned his fighter to keep the Seraphs away from the fleet.

**Worm and UNSC troops, **_**Raleigh**_**_ V_**

**1336 Hours 10.2.2551**

"Roger that 617, we'll hold them off as long as possible." Casey switched off the Com. He turned to Dirt with a concerned look on his wormy face.

"Don't fret," an armored UNSC marine said, "Only two ships, this'll be a milk run."

"I hope yer correct!" Dirt snapped. The marine returned to his squad without looking back. The Worm Troopers followed, readying themselves for the upcoming fight.

After a few minutes two U-shaped, purple ships appeared, they touched down about a hundred meters away. Ten squat aliens in orange armor jumped out, they started with what was a mix of squeals and barks, they advanced.

"What the-"

"Grunts," Colonel Mallard told Dirt. "They're fairly weak, you got a sidearm?" Dirt pulled out his blaster pistol.

"Just point the gun at 'em, fire, and we'll all live," the Colonel assured.

After circling a few minutes to let the other clear, the second dropship landed, out came eight Grunts and five black, bird-like aliens carrying glowing shields.

"Jackals!" A marine yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Shut up Marine!" a Sergeant yelled back.

At forty meters the Marines began firing with their projectile weapons, bullets flew at high speed towards the first wave of attackers, two of the Grunts wee felled by 7.62mm bullets. The Worms joined in with their EARs, five more of the Grunts fell. The remaining Grunts started screaming and ran, but not before Dirt nailed a straggler with two shots to the head.

When the second wave apporached things got a little hot, one of the Jackals fired a large ball of plasma from its pistol, it struck a Marine next to Dirt, he shrieked, and three small shots nailed him in his face, his helmet melted as he hit the ground. A second burst approached the line, Dirt ducked, and felt a wave of immense heat pass over head. A second UNSC Marine was hit by a charged blast, he ducked the foll-up shots and continued firing. Five of the Gunts were killed by fire from the Marines' MA5B assault rifles, and lances of EAR fire sliced through the shields of the Jackals, two died, a third begin to run, Dirt hit it in the head with a bolt. The remaining Grunts began to panic.

"Run away!" Was one of the many things which were said as they retreated. Anothr Grunt was killed by four rounds in the stomach, and a fifth in its methane breather. The remaining five Grunts escaped and the two surviving Jackals escaped into the woods.

The Worms, with the exception of Dirt, immediately began cheering, they had held off the assault. Dirt wasn't so convinced.

"It's not over yet." Dirt muttered to himself. He then heard a strange whine…

"Banshees!" Mallard yelled to his men. "Duck and cover!" Dirt looked up and saw to strange purple ships approaching fast, firing a kind of plasma weapon. They sported two stubby wings with red pods at the end. They sprayed the encampment with fire. Two Marines were killed and a Worm Trooper was badly burned. The UNSC Marines began firing their weapons at the two ships as they turned around for another pass, again spitting out plasma at a tremendous rate.

Casey took two hits in his right arm, as he fired his pistol at the incoming fighters. The burned Worm was unable to duck and was finished off, finally one of them exploded from a hail of bullets, and three red laser beams came out of nowhere, everyone turned and saw a white vee fighter, a Skua, Pine's Skua.

"Damn, what the hell was that thing?"

"This is Colonel Thomas Mallard, United Nations Space Command Marine Corps."

"Roger that, Colonel. Thought I might drop in."

"Affirmative. Any new Covenant dropships inbound to our location?"

"Scanning…" Everyone held their breath for a few seconds. "Four dropships coming in, a damaged Covenant Frigate set down sixty kilometers from here. I'll get a few of my boys to deal with'em. Brown Leader. Out."

Mallard turned off the COM and put it back into his pocket. "Well I sure hope your friends in white are up to the challenge, we can handle on dropship, we can handle two with a little air support, but four…

"Who's _we?" _Dirt said coldly. "We're leaving." He signalled the troopers to follow him and turned around.

Before the human cold reply he got another trasmission from Pine.

_Seraph fighters, engaging, ground teams. A dropship [static] getting through, get out [static] there…_

Colonel Mallard turned back to Dirt after the Worms stopped walking. Dirt sighed deeply. "Okay, let's hunker down."

"Holy shit, they're back!" Everyone turned and saw five Grunts and the two Jackals, they were back.

Dirt ducked as a shower of explosive needles rained down on the party, several Marines were not so lucky. One Marine took was hit by three needles, which exploded with a purple column of fire, he was down and dead. A second Marine and a Worm Trooper each took five needles, the Worm's left arm exploded as he cried out in pain, the Marine slumped to the ground.

The Worms opened fire with their EARs, cutting down three of the Grunts, a Marine threw a fragmentation grade, killing both the surviving Jackals, bullets cut down a fourth Grunt, the sole survivor let out another burst of needles before taking cover. Two Worm Troopers were wounded.

A Covenant Dropship landed sixty meters downwind. "We're being flanked!" Mallard yelled to his men as fourteen Grunts exited the dropship, all seven carrying needlers, two of the Gurnts wore red armor. Mallard's life was soon cut short as ten needles hit him, six in the chest, and four around his waist, the explosion sent blood and pieces of flesh flying everywhere, after brushing off the skin and organs, the party opened up on the new arrivals, the survivor Grunt was quickly cut down by three shots from Dirt's pistol. Three of the new Grunts were felld by 7.62mm bullets, five more from EARs.

Two needles impacted with a Worm Trooper to Dirt's left, they detonated a few seconds later, the Worm's insides were meat, if they were not relieved soon, Dirt and everyone else would die. After a few more minutes, all Covenant troops were eleminated but three more soldiers were killed, Dirt was hit in his shoulderblade by a plasma shot, luckiley there was no bleeding, just a second degree burn.

After the battle, ten Worm Troopers, Dirt, Casey, and five Marines were left alive. Almost everyone was at least slightly wounded. An Assualt Shuttle picked everyone up, and an hour later the Worm Expeditionary Force had left the system.


	10. Only A Year

**RIS Cruiser _Wendor, _Flagship WEF**

**1814 Hours 10.2.2551**

Before dinner, Admiral Wantillese took one more stroll to the bridge. He looked out at his fleet now that they had stopped to take a fix on their position, the _Curacao_and the _Victory _had multiple blackened spots, plasma burns, and most of the frigates had a little wear, the _Wantillese _was missing.

"Sir," Custard sighed. "I regret to inform you the _Wantillese _was lost. Six plasma torpedoes ripped through the bridge, about a hundred or so of her crew made it off.

"I never really liked the name anyway," was all Dirt could say.

After eating, Dirt bumped into a termite in a navy uniform he had never met before.

"Sir! Lieutenant Mudd, Jack Mudd."

"Who are you?" Dirt asked.

"RIS Special Ops." Dirt gave a look of confusion and shock. He had never heard of RIS Special Ops."

"The Shocktrooper program was re-started, sir. Termite Special Forces." Dirt had heard of the Shocktroopers, their exploits with the Termite Empire were legendary, a dozen battalions took _Merc _with few casualties. Apparently it was decided they were needed again. Bad form."

"I was at _Merc _sir. Admiral Perry asked if I would be willing to re-form the unit; Our armor and gear arrived during the battle." After a brief chat, the two headed for the hangar. Fourteen Termites in pristine white armor stood at attention.

"This is the _Centurion _battle armor system. The Helmet has a full Heads-Up-Display showing armor integrity, biomonitors, ammo counter, and a motion tracker. It's vacuum capable, so we can fight in space. The armor is made up of a light-weight alloy capable of withstanding most small-arms fire, it lets us take enormous amounts of punishment, but this is the best." Mudd picked up a black gun, it looked similar to the standard EAR, only with what looked like a grenade launcher below the main barrel.

"This," Mudd continued. "Is the new EAR-2 with built-in grenade launcher, it's a derivative of the AR-31GL we used on _Merc _twelve years ago. It carries a hundred laser shots and three grenades. Very devastating." Dirt nodded. This would help in the next engagement against the Covenant.

"How long ago was your unit er-reformed."

"About two months ago, remember the _Spartakus?"_

The Spartakus was an old warship, an _Atropos-_class patrol vessel, commonly known as a "Star Sloop." It served with the Independent Mining Guild in the Sigma-5 system until it was stolen by pirates three months after Sigma-19; it was the scourge of the trade lanes until it was successfully boarded five days before Dirt left _Walderann. _

"What about it Lieutenant?" Dirt had no clue where this was going.

Mudd smiled, "That was us." Dirt's jaw dropped.

"What? The fifteen of you, captured a Star Sloop?"

"Yep, a few minor injuries around, I took some shrapnel in the thigh, but us fifteen, killed over a hundred pirates."

Dirt was amazed. "Damn, your good."

**FLEETCOM, Planet _Reach_**

**711 Hours 11.2.2551**

Vice Admiral Whitcomb strolled down a deserted corridor deep under the surface of Reach; he had news that needed to get to Fleet Admiral Hood fast.

The war was not going well, despite the occasional victories, the Covenant had captured or glassed all of the Outer Colonies and were now taking the Inner Colonies one by one. No planet's defenses could stop a determined Covenant assault; it was of utmost importance that the Covenant not find Earth, or all would be lost.

Whitcomb took a right, had his iris scanned, and opened the door to Fleet Admiral Sir Terence Hood's office. He was sitting at a small wood desk, accessing a few files on his computer. He looked up.

"This better be important Admiral," he growled.

"They got _New Ireland__."_

"What was that you said?" Hood asked tensely

Whitecomb took a deep breath. "The Covenant glassed every planet in the system, they were undefended. We're stretched too thin."

"I am aware of that," Hood snapped. "When did you get this information?"

"My office received a report from Admiral Stanforth this morning."

"Very well then," Hood replied. He pushed a few buttons and a holographic map of the known galaxy appeared over the table. Hood zoomed in on the Inner Colonies and Earth. Several of the systems were red, indicating that they had been lost to the Covenant. The _New Ireland_system turned red as Hood marked off the latest victim.

"That leaves Epsilon Eridani, Tantalus, Sigma Octanus, New California, New Raleigh, parts of Jericho, Atlas, Magellan, and Sol. Two hundred systems glassed, and billions nurdered," Hood murmured as he focused his gaze at the Tantalus system.

"There," he jabbed his finger at the system. "Is Taskforce 58, two cruisers, five destroyers, and ten frigates under Cole." Hood pointed to the space between_ New Raleigh _and _Reach. _"There is the WEF under Rear Admiral Wantillese." Hood stared at Whitcomb for the first time since the Vice Admiral entered the room. "Admiral, take the WEF and attach them to Task Force 58, take the combined fleet," he paused. "And send them to here." Hood gestured to a spot nine thousand lightyears from Tantalus. "ONI says a damaged Covie ship has been tracked to this area, I want them to investigate and destroy anything there, that should buy us some time."

"Sir, that's almost ten percent of our entire fleet, is it worth the risk?"

"You know the answer to that as much as I do!" Hood snapped. "No! Cole knows whats at stake here, it has to be done, or humanity will be gone in less than a year!"


End file.
